The Girl in the Pink Robes
by The Enigmatic Crow
Summary: After the war ends; Draco is left broken and bitter. His mother thinks that perhaps marriage is the best option. Perhaps she's right. But in the meantime, he has to find out the name of the mysterious girl at the party. Oneshot.


Draco Malfoy is fairly sure he completely regretted coming to Pansy Parkinson's party.

As per tradition, the extravagant event is held on the grounds of the Parkinson Estate; amidst white silk tents and party guests in taffeta pink dresses. It's quite amusing that the ancient brick building; with it's high turrets and walls of creeping jade ivy could manage to look so hideously garish and frilly; like an Umbridge themed nightmare. Draco watches in distaste the flock of high arched swans; charmed a sickening shade of pink. His father's peacocks seem almost modest in comparison.

When he had first received an invitation; the thick parchment with the curling script and satin ribbon that reeked of cheap flowery perfume, he had thrown the disgusting thing in the fire, watching as it curled up in the flames and crumbled into ash. The last memory he had of Pansy was her tear streaked face; mascara smeared and blotchy complexioned when he had broken up with her at her older sister's engagement celebration. Draco smiles at the thought of it; how she; between heartbroken sobs of course, had vowed never to see him again.

So of course he was very shocked at what he had gotten in the mail. He had sat at the dining table; an unpleasant taste in his mouth when mother decided it would be best if the Malfoys paid an visit. "You need to show them that our family has good intentions." She had said uneasily.

Draco knew perfectly well that she was referring to the disgust pureblood society had around the clan; for the scandal that was their involvement in the second wizarding war.

The funny thing wasn't that Lucius was part of the Dark Lord's inner circle; killing mudbloods by his orders that upset the lot of them. Nor was it the fact that Draco was required to do the same. It was merely because after the war ended, the family had stood trial and forced to shamefully accept Potter's protection to exchange a lifetime of Azkaban for a much lighter sentence on father's part.

It shows perfectly well the ruthlessness of society, Draco thinks bitterly, that his crime wasn't what he did, but rather that he was caught.

It was nearly as absurd as mother's belief that being engaged to a pureblood lady would have everyone forget the events of the past couple years.

Draco, at eighteen had absolutely no plans to be married soon- maybe even ever.

And most certainly not to Pansy Parkinson.

Standing in the stone courtyard of the manor on the chilly October afternoon makes Draco realize he would rather be mauled by the hippogriff again.

For the majority of the cloudless day, he had been subjected to squealing girls that talked of marriage and a giggling Pansy clutching on to his arm, seemingly oblivious their breakup just a year prior. "I hear Diana Sewlyn is getting married." One of her friends; the mousy one comments.

Pansy laughs; a raspy little snort. " I'm surprised, considering how much of a slag she is."

"Tracy told me she once went to bed with Goyle." The chubby brunette says.

A round of scandalized laughter breaks out, though Draco's face is perfectly solemn. "I told you this would be fun!" Pansy coos.

If only he actually gave a damn.

"Of course." He smiles stiffly, " I'm just going to take a walk around the gardens."

"I'll come with you." She volunteers.

"It's fine." He says walking away.

His steps crunch along the gravel, as he walks to the desolate piece of land that could hardly qualify as a garden; with dying grass and the skeletons of summer flowers. "You're bored too?"

Draco turns around to the source of the voice, revealing a girl seated leisurely on the grass. She appeared to be petite, and while not classically beautiful; was fortunate enough to be described as 'somewhat pretty'. Her thin strands of auburn hair fall to her shoulders, contrasting with her pale, sallow skin. Her jaw was rather square, but she had fair features; full lips and large olive eyes which are staring at him quite sharply. "My mother practically dragged me here." She comments casually, " Of course, she never said I had to make social interaction."

She smirks.

Normally, Draco would have ignored a girl like this; given that he- a Malfoy, was not to be bothered by outcasts clinging on to the fringe of society, but there was something intriguing about the girl who was staring at his so intently, her mouth curled into an expression that seemed halfway between amusement and curiosity. "Are you going to reply or are you just going to stand there with your mouth agape?" She asks playfully.

He's surprised at how brash the tiny girl in the pink is."Er... Yes."

"I'd rather be a mudblood than stay here."He adds lamely.

She laughs. "So you do have a sense of humor. Unlike some other people here."

"I bet you Morgan Rosier doesn't even have a subscription to Witch Weekly." She imitates in a squeaky voice.

Draco chuckles. She amused him; though her lack of subtlety contrasted with the discreet and clever interactions that had surrounded since childhood.

"I like you." She say boldly, "You, I don't have an urge to strangle."

"That means a lot to me." He says sarcastically.

"It should. Coming from me."

"What's your name?"

She stands up, brushing the dirt off her salmon robes. "I'm bored. Let's play a game." She announces, almost childishly.

"Tell me your name first?"

She grins mischievously. "Try to guess, Draco Malfoy."

"Why should I? You seem to know mine."

"Of course, everyone knows who you are."

Draco winces. A few years ago, he would have been quite proud at his own prominence, but nowadays, when he is known as the coward who couldn't pick a side, he wonders if it's a good thing.

The girl seems to not notice. "How about this, I'll give you until this horrid affair ends to guess my name, and if you don't, I win."

"Can I at least get a hint?"

She smirks. "We'll see." She says before she saunters away.

Draco stares at the ground for minutes before he realizes that a foolish smile is. plastered on his face. He likes her too.

The shrill sound of Pansy's voice interrupts his thoughts. "There you are!" She beams, "Come on. We're going to open my presents."

Typical materialistic Pansy.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy her company; he did- especially when in the abandoned classrooms in the dark of night back when they were at Hogwarts. He had to admit he almost liked her- when she had; in her typically vicious way, would mock Potter and the weasel and the mudblood. She was exactly like him; with her narrow world views, her enormous ego and the subtle hint of cruelty that made its way into everything she did.

And for that reason he hates her.

Her presents are piled atop a large table. Pansy's eyes glint as she surveys the large mass of gilt paper and curling ribbons and tantalizing boxes and its very clear she's too occupied to notice the plain white package at the bottom of the pile shaking.

Draco watches in both fascination and surprise as the tremors become stronger and stronger and the offending gift begins to shudder and hiss. Pansy's eyes widen; making her face appear ever more puglike in the light of the flickering lanterns. She barely has time to move before the plain box bursts; flaming and searing. Disintegrating shrapnels of paper are thrown from the explosion.

Draco covers his head as he takes in the screams and chaos around him. He feels the heat of dying ember fly past him and sighs in relief when none sear his flesh.

And then the burnt slip of curled paper lands in his palm.

Scrawled writing reads 'Astoria Greengrass.'

He realizes it is his hint.

She ruined an entire party to introduce herself; the girl with the red hair, the one who sits calmly with her legs crossed. The one who's casually waving at him; pretending not to notice the slightly singed and very angry party guests around her.

He smiles.

He doesn't know whether she did it for his amusement or hers. But the sight of Pansy fuming; her nostrils flaring comically and her eyes as large as saucers makes him laugh.

He doesn't remember the last time he felt this happy.

The girl- Astoria, calmly strolls over and gives him a lopsided grin. "You win. Your prize is that you can take me out to dinner." She says in mock defeat.

"When can I redeem that?"

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